


The Apple of my Eye

by bowtieowl



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, between the lines allusions to the gross regent stuff, gun mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 20:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11905299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowtieowl/pseuds/bowtieowl
Summary: Laurent shoots his iPhone. That's how it starts. Damen is the poor guy who is supposed to fix it and recover Laurent's pictures. He definitely finds more than he expects.





	The Apple of my Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Captive Prince Zine "The Gold Between Us". The story is accompanied by the amazing [artwork](http://kitshunette.tumblr.com/post/163568552512/hello-im-late-to-everything-my-contribution-to) by [kitshunette](http://kitshunette.tumblr.com/). My amazing beta was [kiseopingu](xxx). Thank you so much for your help.
> 
> I've been reluctant to put this story out there for quite some time now because I felt a little bit self-conscious. That's why I'm late to the party. But enjoy some fluff and thanks to everyone who has made this Zine happen as well as everyone who supported it. Have fun reading!

"Can you or can you not recover the pictures from this phone?" The guy pushes his glasses back up for what has to be the hundredth time within an hour. By now Damen has realized that the more he tries to calm himself down, the more he does it. By now Damen also doesn't really care.

"Look," he tries once more, his voice forced into calm politeness, "this thing is trashed. I'm telling you, your new one is covered with your insurance, but I'm not sure how you expect me to recover anything from this phone. Because—and I can't stress this enough—there is a bullet hole in it."

"So you're telling me my apps and my music and my contacts and fucking everything is stored except for my pictures?”

Damen lifts his hand halfway to pinch the bridge of his nose when he becomes aware that this would be too much like pushing up glasses. Instead he folds his arms. "You didn't synchronize them into the cloud. It's your own fault."

The customer's lips flatten into a thin line and the little color left in his cheeks drains from his face. "I've had enough nice experiences with your cloud."

"Yeah, well..."

The miracle  happens and the guy suddenly appears defeated.  "I just… I thought it would at least synchronize with my laptop…"

Damen looks at him and he suddenly can't see the hipster haircut or the expensive clothes or the fancy shoulder bag anymore. All there's left in this moment is someone who is barely old enough to be called a man, but with enough sadness in his eyes to prompt old ladies to bake for him and dark circles that dissolve Damen's frustration into a mild irritation. "You have to synchronize them by hand…  I'm sorry."

The guy looks down at his phone and sighs. "Okay."

"Okay, Laurent… It's Laurent, right?" Damen has the name from the form the guy filled out. Laurent confirms it by nodding. "After a certain amount of damage it's just really hard to get any information off those things. But how about I try? And if I can get something—anything—we'll call it a happy day and if not, you won't blame me for not being able to fix this."

Laurent doesn't say anything for a moment. He just squints his eyes and stares, his head slightly tilted. Then he nods. "Okay. We have a deal."

The small smile sneaks up on Damen before he can keep it off his face. "Awesome, then I'll do that off hours and I'll give you a call as soon as I've made progress."

They shake hands and Laurent leaves. Damen shakes his head as soon as he notices that Laurent is pretty much exactly his type. He starts to wonder why he hasn't seen it earlier.

***

After five days of working, Damen manages to retrieve a first file. It's a picture of salad. Damen starts to wonder if this is really worth his time.

***

In the end he manages two-hundred-and-seventy-three pictures. A few of them are completely random shots and Damen is aware of it when he calls Laurent. There is more salad, for example. Or that screenshot of when he caught an Eevee in Pokémon Go. But there are also a lot of pictures that Damen is dying to know more about. He tries not to be offended when he introduces himself on the phone and Laurent doesn’t seem to recognize him at first, before he starts to refer to him as Apple-Guy, and then, iGuy. They arrange a time and a spot to meet and Damen saves all the images on two USB-sticks just to be sure he has them, ready to save the day.

***

When Damen arrives at the coffee shop, he notices that something isn't quite right. Laurent is still trying to sell this perfect façade, this time with dark skinny jeans and a blazer that has to cost more than what Damen makes in a month. His hair is styled, his shoes are polished and yet, there is a certain edge to his attire. Like someone who has spent the night in his clothes and has to go to work with them the next day.

Damen sits in the chair across from Laurent and immediately the guy squares his shoulders and holds his chin a little higher. "You could get the pictures?"

"Good morning to you too," Damen mumbles and rolls his eyes before he pulls out the USB drives. "I managed to retrieve some. Not all. One of them is for backup."

Laurent doesn't thank Damen, doesn't even look at him. He immediately pulls out his MacBook and opens the pictures, going through them until he apparently finds what he's looking for. He stills completely. A star standing still in a universe of planets. His eyes water and he has to force the tears away. It looks like he’s tearing himself out of his own feelings to get back into the present.

"Thank you," Laurent says, his voice hoarse and raw. "I'll pay you whatever you want."

Damen has a list. He wrote down working hours and even material costs. The invoice is formal and tucked into his bag, but something about Laurent pulls all of Damen's strings so instead of just asking the guy for money, he finds himself babbling. "Go out with me instead."

The softness vanishes from Laurent's eyes and suddenly he’s this other person again. The man Damen really wanted to kick out of his shop. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, come on," Damen tries in a soft and awkwardly flirty tone. "Mystery guy comes into my shop and pays whatever sum to get back pictures of salad. I just want to hear a little bit more about your story. Besides… I think you're cute."

Without a word Laurent pushes up, knocking back his chair in the process, and leaves so fast Damen has no chance to react. He's so stunned that he notices only once he’s back home that he neither has the money nor a date.

***

When Damen gets a text the next day, it consists of nothing but a time and the address. He smiles when the second text comes in and it solely says 'Tomorrow.'

***

Damen wouldn't have thought Laurent would come to a place like this. It's dark and cozy and every chair is different. Not in a fashionable way, either. It just looks like this place has been in business forever and the owner decided to get a random new chair whenever an old one broke. It's worn down and busy not with the usual city buzz but with waiters yelling orders into the kitchen and Italian curses being yelled back. A family business.

Laurent is already sitting in the corner and typing away on his MacBook  when Damen arrives . Looks like he's always early and always working. He closes the computer once he spots Damen, frowning as if he  had been expecting someone else.

"Nice place," Damen says and can't keep himself from smiling. Maybe it's because Laurent keeps scowling. "And thanks for meeting me."

Laurent just huffs. "I owe you. For the pictures. This is me paying my debt, that's all."

"Of course." Damen tilts his head and  eyes Laurent suspiciously . The last time  they saw each other ,  Damen already thought he looked a bit worn down. Today it's worse. "Are you okay?"

Laurent blinks in surprise. Damen has to wonder what it must be like when you're surprised by a question like that.

"Why?" Laurent asks instead of giving an answer.

"Because you act like someone who's on the run," Damen says without thinking. He knows he pushed the wrong buttons when Laurent once again jumps up ,  ready to leave. This time Damen is faster, though. He reaches out, grasping Laurent's wrist. He would have expected anger about that, but not the pure disgust he finds on Laurent's face.

"Let go of me," Laurent snarls quietly.

Damen lifts his hands and leans back in his chair. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Just… Don't leave yet. Please."

"Did he send you?"

Damen frowns in confusion. "Who?"

Laurent looks at him for a very long moment. Then, very cautiously, he sits down again, his back straighter now and his head held a little higher than before. The tension between them is thick when a waiter appears next to their table and asks what they want. Laurent orders for both of them. Damen doesn't object.

***

They spend a long while in relative silence  except for a small exchange about the weather . Damen starts to regret that he kept Laurent from leaving and he knows that he will sit there struggling with the awkwardness for the rest of the evening. Much to his surprise it's Laurent who breaks the silence.

"Do you want my olives?" Laurent asks and Damen looks up from his plate to find Laurent's eyes on him.

"Why did you order that pizza  if you don't like olives?" Damen hears the crankiness in his own voice and he can’t help but  wonder  how someone he barely knows can affect his mood so much.

"I like the dark ones." Laurent pokes  an olive with his fork and rolls it away from his pizza. "The green ones are gross."

Damen reaches over and takes one of the olives, plopping one into his mouth. "I like them."

"My brother used to eat my olives," Laurent says and licks his lips. There is something in his voice that makes Damen still. "We were close. He died six months ago. Exactly six months ago."

Damen swallows hard. "I'm sorry."

Laurent shakes his head, dismissing the apology. There is a moment of silence before Laurent starts to speak again, more to himself than to Damen. "I just didn't want to be alone tonight. I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea to go on a date with a complete stranger."

Damen should be offended, but for some reason he's isn’t. He can just sense Laurent's sadness and the melancholia and he wants to do something about it. Lift his  spirits . "I'm hardly a stranger."

Laurent lifts his eyebrows and gives Damen a look that makes him blush from embarrassment. "Is that so?"

Damen chuckles. "I know you like salad enough to take pictures of it, for example. I know you like animals because you took a gazillion pictures of random puppies on the street. I know that you were wearing your hair long until about three weeks ago. I know that you're a secret nerd because you play Pokémon Go with enough enthusiasm to take screenshots. And—I know that you don't like green olives. But you do like the dark ones." 

Laurent stares at Damen with wide eyes and Damen has no idea what to expect when Laurent lets out a small laugh. His whole face transforms. There's a spark in his eyes and color in his cheeks. Laughing suits him.

"I know nothing about you," Laurent says, stealing a slice of pizza from Damen. "You get my olives in exchange  of that…"

Damen rolls his eyes. "What do you want to know? Aside from the fact that I usually don't tolerate pizza  thieves."

Laurent shrugs and chews. "Surprise me with random knowledge."

"I like animals too," Damen starts, snatching another olive from Laurent's plate. "I thought I was a dog person until I got a cat. Now I know better. I would run around hungry if I only ate salad. I get cranky when I'm hungry. I hate getting haircuts. That's why I'll wear my hair long forever. Oh, and I love olives of every size and color."

"Favorite movie?" Laurent asks.

"The Godfather," Damen replies without much hesitation.

Laurent laughs again. "Unofficial favorite movie?"

Damen feels heat rise  on his cheeks. Nobody has called him out on that. Ever. "The Princess Bride. But don't tell anyone."

"As you wish," Laurent says with a small nod, an amused smile on his lips.

Damen smiles back. "Told you. We're not strangers anymore."

"Maybe."

It's a small admission but one that makes Damen feel bold enough to give into his curiosity. "Why is there a bullet hole in your phone? I mean… You don't look like someone who owns a gun."

Laurent puts down his  slice of pizza and takes a sip of water. Damen can see the wheels in his head turning. "My family has a ranch. Regardless of how I feel about weapons, I know how to use them."

"And you decided to use your phone as target practice?"

Laurent looks Damen straight in the eyes. His stare is intense and Damen squirms. "I'm supposed to be at home. My mom died soon after I was born and my dad died in the same car accident as my brother. My father's last will says that I will inherit the family business as soon as I graduate from college and that my Uncle will get twenty-five percent of the company in return for taking care of everything until I can take over."

Damen frowns. "Complicated story, huh?"

Laurent huffs again, but this time it's pure bitterness. "I don't necessarily… get along… with my Uncle. So three weeks ago I packed my stuff and left. I'll return once I have my degree. Until then I'd rather stay away from him. But he's sending people after me. Private investigators. And some other people. The gun was a precaution."

"Are you kidding me?" To Damen the whole thing sounds like a mob story. "You don't think he's gonna hurt you, do you? I mean… He'd get caught. People don't really get away with stuff like that in real life."

"He doesn't really have to hurt me, just my reputation," Laurent says with a sigh and Damen thinks that he looks tired again. Not just lack-of-sleep tired. Bone-crushing-exhaustion tired. "Apparently he managed to convince my  family’s  lawyers that I'm not just unfit to run a company yet, but that I also can't be trusted with my family's money. Since it's tied to the business, they agreed. I got the call from my Uncle that I can either return home or try to get my degree without any financial backup. He cut me off. I got mad. So I ended my facetime with him and his lawyers with a Glock 42."

Now it's Damen's turn to raise his eyebrows. Definitely a mob story.  "You shot your phone because you got mad at your Uncle?"

Laurent looks bored. Like it's the most normal thing in the world. "He should be glad he didn't decide to tell me in person."

Damen takes a mental note never to cross Laurent. Or his Glock. Then his attention gets drawn to another aspect of Laurent's story. "Do you know how to get by? Will you be able to get money?"

"I have a small savings account that is in my name alone," Laurent says with a small nod. "It's not much, but it will get me through college if I'm smart about it."

"Dire times?" Damen asks with a grin.

Laurent sighs dramatically. "No more fancy restaurants for the next two years."

Damen winks. "Unless someone else is paying."

Amusement makes the corners of Laurent's mouth curl up. "Unless someone else is paying."

***

That night, Laurent falls into bed cursing himself and the entire universe. He should have learned a long time ago to be more careful. Usually he is. But Damen is just an Apple guy in a big city and the chances of him being on his Uncle's pay roll are so incredibly low…

Still. Laurent starts to think about how easy it would be for Damen just to call his Uncle and tell him where he is. What he's up to. In times like these, every piece of information is worth money and money is the key to power, the key to everything.

Laurent puts away his glasses and rubs his face. He definitely shouldn't have trusted a stranger like that. But then he thinks about the way Damen looked at him, approaching his vulnerabilities with little pity or judgement and no malice at all. Laurent needed it. Just for one evening. He needed someone around him to bicker with, to talk to. Someone to steal pizza from.

He turns to lie on his stomach, burying his face in his pillow. One evening of letting down his guard. He tells himself he deserved it. Tomorrow he will straighten up and keep going. No more mistakes like today. He'll just bottle this evening up as a good memory. In his head , it sounds like a solid plan. At least until the next day when he gets a message from Damen. It's a picture of a glass of dark olives. A second later his phone vibrates again and the text comes through.

'Dinner at my place? I'll make Greek salad.'

***

"I can't believe this." Laurent pushes up his glasses before crossing his arms in frustration. "Where did my pictures go?"

Damen peeks around the corner and frowns when he sees Laurent glaring at the computer, quickly walking over to lean over his boyfriend's shoulder. He's learned his lesson and doesn't suggest the cloud again. If Laurent has his problems with it, then Damen will leave it be. "Have you synchronized your old computer the way I told you?"

"You literally painted me a picture, Damen. It was pretty easy to follow the instructions."

The small instruction sheet Damen drew for Laurent, complete with IKEA stick figures, lies crumbled up next to the computer. Damen chuckles. He's well aware that Laurent is currently pissed, but tech stuff is pretty much the only thing where Damen has the upper hand. And yes, he sometimes enjoys that a little bit too much.

"Let me have a look." Laurent moves away and Damen clicks himself through the computer, searching for what Laurent is looking for. He finds the pictures after only a few minutes but Laurent still has been breathing down his neck the entire time. "There you go."

Laurent lets out a sound of pure relief and he wraps his arms around Damen's shoulders, kissing his cheek. "Thanks, iGuy."

Damen chuckles once more and turns his head to give Laurent a proper kiss. "Hey, you never told me why those pictures are that important to you. Is it Eevee? It's Eevee, right?"

Laurent rolls his eyes, but his smile shows his amusement for what it is. Then he hums and blushes, opening the folder with the pictures Damen retrieved for him almost two years ago. He clicks on a picture that opens full size and shows Laurent hugging another man. Both of them are laughing. "That's the last picture of me and my brother."

Damen immediately feels guilty for making fun of Laurent earlier. "I'm sorry."

Laurent shakes his head. He's never been good at accepting apologies. "I like my Eevee too, by the way."

With another laugh, Damen pulls Laurent into his arms and kisses him softly. He spots a familiar spark in Laurent's eyes. Mischief. "What is it?"

"There's another picture that's important to me." Laurent grins as he opens another folder and scrolls through it until he finds what he's looking for. He opens that as well and Damen's heart skips a beat before he grins as well.

It's a picture of Greek salad. 


End file.
